Where the Lines Overlap
by uhnonniemiss
Summary: Phan oneshot. When Dan sees someone about to commit suicide, he decides to help them, but not everything turns out quite as planned- he certainly didn't expect to see the ghost of fragile, lonely Phil Lester. Rating: T- Strong language and adult themes. Warnings: Character death. Major trigger warning for suicide/ suicidal thoughts. Please review, it means a lot!


Where the lines overlap

The barren trees stretched in a straight line towards the horizon, winter branches causing the sunlight to fall in shafts, dappling the tarmac with spots of illumination. The air tasted of cold and the snap of peppermint and the promise of a spring that was just out of reach. And all of it was lost on the dark haired boy in the car by the side of the road.

Dan slammed his hand into the steering wheel, cursing. "Great. This is fantastic." Of all the places for the old Chevy to break down, half way down a highway in the middle of nowhere, miles away from any kind of mechanic, would not have been his first choice. He sighed, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet on the cracked dashboard. He _could _get out and fix it, he supposed, but then, he could do a lot of things. Things like watching his breath turn to clouds of steam in the cold air, or staring out the window. He had a perfect, sprawling view of the woods, a light November mist curling round the trees, vague silhouettes and shadows hugging the undergrowth. Dan fancied he could see a dark shape moving round a large oak in the distance- a fairy, perhaps, or some kind of wicked forest sprite.

Dan squinted his eyes. The more he focussed, the more coherent that shape became, the shadows forming into limbs and a head and a torso. It was impossible to make out features in the fog, but as he concentrated, Dan could see the figure pull something out of its bag, reaching upwards to one of the thicker tree branches, and _Jesus Christ that's a noose_.

Even from this distance, Dan could see the shadow run the rope slowly through its hands, tying it firmly onto the tree, tugging on it once. Suddenly, his lungs couldn't draw enough oxygen from the air, and he felt his heartbeat go into overdrive- _I can't just sit here_, his mind threw frantic shards of thoughts at him. The forest was too dense to drive through, even if he could get the car to work, but there was no time. _I'll just have to run to him. Maybe if I can get them to talk- oh, shit._ The figure was already lifting the rope over his head, and Dan fumbled with the lock, hands shaking, arms moving through mud. He jumped out of the Chevy's driver side and into the road.

He didn't see the headlights coming towards him.

He didn't see the driver try and swerve, dropping his phone.

And he definitely didn't see blood leaking into the cracks of the road.

Because everything he could see was _black… black… black. _

Dan blinked his eyes open, the light searing his retinas. The cold from the road was seeping through his t shirt and into his back. _Wait, why am I lying down?_

He felt a sharp pain in his side- something was nudging him. "Mhm, no, I don't want to wake up…" he protested, but the nudging persisted. A soft voice kept saying "hello" from somewhere above him.

Dan pushed himself into a sitting position, running a hand through his hair. "What?" he groaned, looking up as the owner of the voice squeaked, backing away from him. He looked about seventeen, with dark hair that stuck out in all directions and skin so pale it was almost translucent. "Um, are you okay?"

The boy looked at him with wild, forest-green eyes. "_Okay? _You're a-asking me if I'm _okay_? I finally m-manage it and I found out that everything is exactly the s-same, and you're asking me if I'm okay. Oh, God, I c-can't _believe _this!" he shouted up at the sky, hands clenched into trembling fists. Dan walked over to him quickly, making his voice as soothing as possible, but the boy stumbled away from him again, a twitch snapping his body back.

"Hey, there. It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." The boy snorted, seeming to find that funny. "I'm Dan, what's your name?"

"Ph-Phil." He chewed on his bottom lip, shoulders hunched and shivering. "I'm so s-s-sorry, about what's happened. D-do you know what we're supposed to do next?"

A tiny frown line appeared on Dan's forehead. "What do you mean, next? What's going to- _shit_!" When he'd passed out, he'd forgotten completely about the figure in the woods. "I'm so sorry, there's someone- someone needs help," Dan spoke in a rush, turning round and sprinting into the dense trees. Phil started after him, shouting words that were lost on the air.

He almost forgot where he'd seen the figure, every shrub seemed identical, but eventually he found the old oak. The figure hung a few feet in the air, feet scraping the ground, like a child on a swing. Dan clamped a hand over his mouth. _Oh God, I'm too late. _He approached, hesitant, feet stumbling over exposed tree roots, until an idea hit him- he grabbed the sharpest rock he could see, and started hacking at the rope. He took care to stand behind the figure, not quite sure if he was ready to see their face.

Phil crashed through the undergrowth, panting for breath. His hair looked even more dishevelled than before, if that was possible. "N-n-n-no! What are you doing? Stop it!"

"Shut up and help me!" Dan snapped back, struggling to keep his grip on the rock. The rope frayed and suddenly snapped, the knot still tied round the figure's neck as Dan helped to break its fall.

Phil's hands pulled at his hair, eyes terrified. "No, I'm b-begging you, p-please, you don't kn-know what you're doing?"

Dan ignored him, hopelessly trying to remember his first aid courses. Was it pump the heart for four beats, then breathe, or just for three? His hands shook with a toxic mix of adrenaline and fear. "Phil, please, just call an ambulance! This guy needs help and you're seriously-" he stopped dead. Looking down at the person he'd just turned over, he shook his head, breath caught in his chest. He glanced back up at Phil, then down again.

_Black hair, dishevelled. Same clothes. Pale skin. _

_I bet if his eyes were open, they would be green._

Dan looked at Phil incredulously. "This is you, isn't it? How is this you?"

Phil nodded his head, but said nothing, tears running silently down his face.

"But- are you- are you dead? How can I see you?" Dan shook his head. "Never mind, it can wait. Save yourself."

"Wh-what?" Phil was shocked out of his crying. "No, you can't make me!"

"Look," Dan reached for Phil's hand again, speaking quickly. "I don't care if you're some kind of spirit, or ghost. I don't care that you killed yourself, not right now. But I know that I was running to talk you out of this, and you know you can save yourself. So, please," he begged him. "Please."

"You were- f-fine," Phil twitched again, but placed his hands on either side of his head, and closed his eyes. The air started to heat up around him, particles sending jolts of electricity across Dan's skin. A golden light seemed to glow from him, the colour of candle flames.

It was like watching a nature documentary fed in reverse, time lapsed so the flowers which had taken months to grow retreated in a matter of seconds. Dark bruises were wiped away, the too-pale cheeks taking on a healthier tone. Dan watched as the chest began to rise and fall again, the body resetting itself. There was something almost celestial about watching it, almost sacred.

Eventually, Phil snapped his hands away with a violent twitch. He raised a hand to his mouth- Dan noticed that it was less opaque than before, like a heat haze. The other Phil was breathing peacefully on the floor, eyes closed in a deep sleep. The first Phil- _spirit, ghost, whatever_- breathed heavily. "That's as far as I'm g-going. In c-c-c-case you hadn't noticed, I d-didn't exactly die by accident," he glowered.

Now that the sanctity of the moment had been broken, Dan's mind was racing. "Why can I see you? If you're a ghost, am I like that kid out of _The Sixth Sense?"_

Phil looked confused. "Y-you honestly don't know?"

Dan shook his head , but sat down more comfortably, crossing his legs. "I'm sorry. I ran all the way over and I'm only talking to you about myself. Can… can I ask why you did it?"

"B-because I was sick of everything," Phil rested his head in ghostly hands. "My p-p-parents aren't together anymore, and everyone at sch-school hates me because I l-like boys and because my anxiety makes me stammer and t-t-twitch." He sighed, and Dan took his hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I don't have anxiety, but I like guys too, and either way, I'm not going to hurt you. You don't have to be anxious with me."

Tears started rolling down Phil's cheeks again. "I started to b-believe them. I'm stupid and ugly and p-pathetic and I'm better off dead. If I l-let my spirit go back into my body, I'll j-just cause more pain. If I d-d-don't, I'll st-stay asleep and everyone will be h-happy."

"No! No, that can't be true!" Dan gripped the hand tighter, feeling corporeal flesh instead of mist, and Phil squeezed back, but shook his head.

"It is. Please, d-don't tell me it's going to g-get better, it's not. I j-just want it to stop. I w-want everything to stop." He leaned into Dan's shoulder, lip trembling.

"I know. I would never say that to you, don't worry, you don't have to be scared. I have no idea who you are, I have no idea if it will; get better, but- are you sure this is the only option?"

"You're right. You don't kn-know me, not at all. I c-can't see a way out of this."

"But you're sat here talking to me, right? So you must think there's some hope."

"I'm not here because of hope," Phil looked up at him. "I'm here because I'm guilty."

"Just hear me out. If you've decided by the end that you still want to do it, I'll let you. But… you're blaming yourself for something you can't control. It's not your fault that people are being dicks to you. How old were you when your parents split up?"

"Four."

"Exactly. You were a child, it's not as if you could have had any effect, negative or otherwise. Don't make a decision like this based on what other people do, because they won't be around you forever. This choice is something that affects you, and you are the _most _important person. If you back out now, then they win, and other people are bastards, Phil, we don't want _them _to win."

The tiniest of smiles curled around his lips, but only lasted for a second. "They're r-right, though. I'm ugly and I'll n-n-never find a guy who actually likes me and n-nothing makes me happy."

"Nothing at all? You don't have a favourite movie, or food, or book? You've never heard a great joke, you hate cuddling animals, you can't bear to listen to music?"

"Well, no," Phil squirmed. "B-but that's different, they're tr-trivial things…"

"Nothing that makes you happy is trivial. Every single one of those things is something worth living for- is it really worth giving up a lifetime of happiness just because of the bad things? Okay, tell me what your favourite things are."

Phil took a deep, shuddering breath. "Um, coffee, I dr-drink a lot of coffee. And I guess frogs are p-pretty cool. And stargazing, I l-l-like stargazing."

"If you give up now, you'll never be able to look at the stars again. Or drink another cup of coffee, or pet another frog. Is it really worth giving up all those things, those brilliant, beautiful things that you love? Don't let people take away the things you love, Phil. Anything but that."

"I guess, b-but…" Phil traced a circle in the dirt with his finger. "No, I'm s-sorry. It's g-good, but it's n-n-not enough."

"Alright. I wasn't actually sure if I should say this, but- is there anybody you love, Phil? Anyone who's waiting for you? Tell me, who do you love, and who loves you."

"I… my mum. I love my mum. Right now, I think I love two people, and that's you and my mum."

"You love me?" Dan bit his lip.

Phil gave him a watery smile. "You're trying to talk me out of killing myself. I've never had anyone who's done that before- you're the closest thing I've ever had to a friend. So yes, I love you. D-don't try and guilt trip me, though, I've b-been through how my mum's gonna feel. That's a price that I h-have to p-p-pay."

"No, I didn't mean t like that. It doesn't matter how we feel. The question is, do you want to leave us? Do you really want to go the rest of your life without a hug from your mum? Do you not want to ever see me again?"

"I do," Phil's eyes looked watery, conflicted. "I d-do want those things. I just need something t-to live for, Dan. G-give me something to live for."

Dan stared at him for a long moment, eyelashes casting dark shadows across his face, and pulled away a little. Then, like a bright flurry of fireworks, he leaned forwards and connected their lips. Phil froze, then melted into the kiss, closing his eyes with more bliss than he'd felt in months, years even. He tasted of lemonade and strawberries and the sun.

After an age, they broke apart, Dan's lips tingling from the contact. "Live for me," he whispered. "Live for me."

"A-are you just saying this to try and stop me?"

"Does it feel like it?" Dan traced his finger down Phil's jaw line. "You're cute. You're sweet. You're single. I want to you to live, but I wouldn't screw with your head for that reason. Do you honestly think I would?"

"N-no… I guess not," Phil bit his lip, a ghostly blush spreading over his cheeks. "Fine. Fine, I'll d-do it."

Dan's eyes widened. "Seriously? You'll go back into your body?"

"Y-yeah. I have something to l-live for. A-as long as you c-come back too, obviously." He nudged Dan with his shoulder.

Dan's smile froze in place. "What do you mean, I have to come back?"

"You d-don't get out of it too, s-silly. You n-need to come back to l-l-life as well."

"What are you talking about?" Dan stood up quickly, feet unsteady. "I'm not dead. Stop it. Stop saying that."

Phil's eyes widened, and he covered his mouth. "Oh, m-my god. You don't kn-know."

His breath came in erratic gasps, mind racing.

_Wait, why am I lying down?_

"_I'm so s-s-sorry, about what's happened. D-do you know what we're supposed to do next?" _

"_Y-you honestly don't know?"_

_Oh god. Oh god. Oh god._

Dan stared at Phil, hands pulling at his hair. "I'm dead. I'm dead, aren't I?" Tears started to roll rapidly down his face. "No, no, I can't be dead, I can't be."

"Oh, Dan…" Phil whispered, but he'd already taken off in the other direction.

_I can't be dead. I can't be dead. I can't be dead._

The trees thinned, leading onto cold tarmac and cement. From about fifty feet back, Phil heard the most hideous, heart-wrenching wrenching sound in the world.

Dan was screaming.

He burst out of the forest and onto the road, wrapping protective arms round Dan, who was sobbing wordlessly. He had to close his eyes at the accident, but he saw flashes that struck him like spears to the heart- the white flash of bone, a truck lying on its side, the deep red of blood.

Dan's whole body was shaking. "No. I don't want to be dead. Don't let me be dead…" Suddenly, he jolted out of Phil's arms, starting towards the body. "I can heal myself! You brought yourself back, I can too, right?" He knelt down, blood soaking into his jeans, and laid two hands either side of his head. He concentrated for a heartbeat, maybe two, but there was nothing, just white noise, static. "Wh -why isn't it working?" he asked, voice breaking. Phil placed a hand on his shoulder.

"B-because you're not supposed t-t-to go back. I f-forced my death. I guess it w-w-wasn't my time, or something. But y-your death was supposed to h-happen. It's n-not something you can change." It seemed even harder than usual to force the words out.

"Oh," Dan said, in a very small voice. "I don't want to be a ghost. I want to be happy with you."

"I'm s-sorry, Dan, I'm so sorry," Phil whispered. "I can st-stay here and be a g-g-ghost with you. You won't be l-lonely." But Dan was already shaking his head.

"No, no, I can't let you do that. You need to go back to your family, to the real world. Phil, please," he raised a hand to cut off any protests. "If I had another chance at life, I'd take it in a second. I know you can't live for me anymore, but you can live… instead of me. You need to go back to your mum, the way I can't." His vision began to blur. "It's good that this happened, in a way. I managed to help you. And yes, I am desperately trying to see the bright side of this, and yes, I'm scared, and yes, I really don't want to die." He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Go back into your body, Phil, and call an ambulance for me. And live. Live as wonderfully and as fully as you can." He stood up, staring into those forest-green eyes, drinking them in.

Phil stood on his tiptoes, kissing Dan on the lips for the last time. "Thank you. Th-thank you, Dan. It has been an honour and a pr-privilege, and I w-wish I could have known you longer. Th-thank you, Dan. Thank you." With one final, lingering look at Dan, he turned away and retreated to the forest.

Phil snapped his eyes open, breath coming back to him in a gasp, and stared up at the forest ceiling. His lips still tingled, his last kiss with Dan still on them.

He sat up, stretching out his arms and legs, checking that everything was in working order. _The spirit is a beautiful thing. _He touched the base of his neck, hands shocking him with cold, and pulled the noose off over his head, tossing it far into the bushes- he wouldn't be needing anything like that again.

_I'm going to live._

He nearly got lost on the way back to the road, and had to shield his eyes again from the accident, the body lying there with an eerie calm. But he stepped forward anyway, digging his phone out of his pocket. "Thank you for everything, Dan," he whispered. He couldn't see him anymore, but he could still feel him, a cold breeze drifting past his hand, like a promise, like a lifeline.

He dialled the emergency number, and lifted the phone to his ear. "H-hello?"

_Thank you for everything._

Dan's lips raised in a half-smile, reaching for Phil's hand and squeezing it. He had no idea if he could feel it, but he hope that he did, somehow. He hoped Phil had any idea how proud Dan was of him.

As soon as he let go of Phil's hand, he felt a warmth behind him- he hadn't realised quite how cold he was before now. He turned round, a fierce light, angelic and searing, shone brightly at his eyes. For a second it frightened him, but he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.

_I'm dying. But that's okay. _

He stepped forward into the light, every drop of fear and tension leaving his body, and he felt that this was good, this was right. For a heartbeat, everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt. As he stepped forward, there was a single thought in his mind.

_Goodbye, Phil. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. _


End file.
